


pantsu

by gabriphales



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Fantasizing, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Unrequited Lust, Unresolved Sexual Tension, crack but not really just dont take it seriously, nothing happens gabe is just horny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:20:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24204286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriphales/pseuds/gabriphales
Summary: gabriel is called to observe aziraphale's military uniform tailoring, as is custom for higher ranking angels to do. ensuring there will be no mistakes, and nothing outside their liking. unfortunately for him, gabriel is also very, very horny. fantasies ensue
Relationships: Aziraphale/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	pantsu

**Author's Note:**

> 6 yrs of watching anime has brought me here. im so sorry take me out w/ a glock if u must

all things considered, gabriel should really hate himself for this.

truly, what kind of boss happily allows themselves to get off on such a routine, banal procedure? it's not like he _wants_ to be aroused, but the issue still stands. his eyes burn where they're locked in his sockets, aching with the effort of not looking, not staring, don't _peek._ (he's an angel, he wouldn't think of doing that, of course. but he still considers it prudent to be strict with himself, keep any crude, licentious thoughts in line.)

aziraphale isn't helping the situation. and gabriel - gabriel can't blame him for that, he won't, he's a good angel. an apt, polite, restrained servant of the lord. certainly, the way aziraphale's so utterly unaware of his vessel's modesty is no skin off gabriel's nose. certainly, he isn't lost for words every time aziraphale bends over just a _little_ too far. the hem of his kilt hiking up, exposing soft, sweet flesh. milky white thighs, so smooth his palms delight at the mere conceptualization of sensation. of what that would feel like to _touch_ \- 

he coughs, his hand balled into a tight, reddened fist over his mouth. aziraphale hesitates, quickly locating the issue at hand, and apologizing profusely as he tucks his kilt down. gabriel doesn't miss the flush in his cheeks, nor the wild, white-out look in his eyes. as if he'd struggled not to faint right then and there, losing himself to the surge of foggy, hot adrenaline, and all the blood-rushing that comes with it.

but aziraphale doesn't pass out. aziraphale doesn't even come close. this may have been helped, in part, by the tailor at his side, curving measuring tape around his wrists, and humming a painfully familiar tune. something from sondheim, aziraphale's sure.

"the jacket fits perfect. got it neatly trimmed, no issues here. now, if you don't mind, i'll have to get your measurements for the undershorts. haven't gotten 'round to those yet." the tailor remains unimposing in their suggestions. clearly having done this part with a dozen angels before, and now used to whatever response they might get. aziraphale nods silently - better to get it over with now, he presumes.

gabriel, shuffling in his seat like he's forgotten how to use his body, so awkward and impatient in the way he moves, nearly gives up maintaining his composure. there's a billion reasons why he'd quite rather go clambering out the window to his left than spend another _ruthless_ minute stuck in this absolute _hell._ all irony present being fully intended.

the tailor lifts up aziraphale's skirt, hands stretching to cup around his thigh at first. must be getting a rough estimate, gabriel supposes. then the tape follows, spun around aziraphale's thigh, wrapped about the thickest, fullest part of it. plump skin squishes, presses over the edge of the tape line, all the more tempting for gabriel to grab, hold, _squeeze._ his pulse beats harder in his throat. hard enough to swallow. 

"all right, that should do it." the words ring like a thankful prayer in gabriel's ears. he aches to show his gratitude for the almighty, in all her infinite mercy, for her sparing him from this dreadful torment. the torture has completed its final act, curtains closed, he can _relax_ again.

and then, as so many things do, it all comes crashing down once more. 

"my archangel, if you please, would you offer us your full, rapt attention, just for this moment?" the tailor asks. "i'd quite like to get your opinion on this kilt's aerodynamics."

gabriel's relief drives itself right off the road, meeting its end at the hands of a metaphorical utility pole. his hands fidget in his lap, thumb piercing indents of curved half-lines into his palm. he chews at his inner cheek, debates the matter as poorly as a man in distress can manage, and eventually dwindles in his reply.

"of course. i've got free time today."

for the first time in his life, he regrets handing some of that excess paperwork over to michael. now, with aziraphale standing before him - still red in the face from their earlier ordeal, and looking more humiliated by the minute - gabriel has to wonder how _anything_ could seem a worse fate than this.

"cheers. alright, principality, give us a whirl." the tailor beams brightly, possibly the only individual in the room truly enjoying this debacle. aziraphale bites back his shame, looking anywhere but gabriel's face as he spins on his heel. a full three-sixty, though the impressive feat was lost on gabriel as he choked back his own saliva, throat parched beyond repair. he gets a view of _everything,_ just as he'd been hoping he wouldn't. 

aziraphale - well, he isn't going to judge him on his fashion choices, especially considering the spike of dreaded arousal they incite in gabriel - but aziraphale's wearing _panties._ soft, white cotton, with lace to line the edges. and gabriel must be truly wicked. he must be utterly incorrigible, lost to his sinful rapture, because his only fruitful thoughts are of terribly he wants to drag those panties down around aziraphale's thighs. kiss right up against the soft, slick centre of him. his imagination is all too cruel, supplying him with the taste of aziraphale that he knows will always remain outside what he can fathom.

but he wants it. he can nearly see it if he tries his hardest, gives his efforts up to such a filthy pursuit. can see aziraphale hovering above him, legs straddled on either side of his head, sinking down, getting close enough to _lick._ to lean upwards and lap into, diving his tongue between pink, pearly folds. suckling at his cunt 'til he's sore and sticky from it. 

dear lord, gabriel can picture it now. how red and flushed he'd be, swollen and puffy between his legs, and _sobbing_ when gabriel lets him hump out the breach of his climax atop his thigh. rutting down against him, begging, _pleading_ with an open, drooling mouth. and gabriel would give him everything he asks for. everything and more. everything, everything and -

"sir." aziraphale's trembling voice cracks open his fantasies like a hammer to thin wood. "may i take my leave now?"

gabriel gathers himself prim and poised, which is what he needs to not look as if he's just been fortifying the depths of what his mind can offer in graphic detail.

"that's perfectly fine," he splutters. apparently he still hasn't gotten his voice quite in working order. "return to your earthly duties at once. and tailor - "

they raise their head, smiling.

"thank you for inviting me as assistance today." gabriel says. it's all he can take without ripping out his own teeth.

"it was my pleasure. do take care, sir. enjoy your free time, you're in need of it, you know. such a hard worker." the tailor slides out the door besides aziraphale, leaving gabriel thankfully, _mercifully_ alone.

dithering, he muses over his options, eventually deciding to go with the tailor's advice. it is his office after all. might as well take advantage of the privacy it entails, and truly, deeply, _enjoy_ the hours he has to spare. aziraphale will be none the wiser for all his starring as the leading role. and gabriel - well, gabriel will get to work out some tension. that's all. nothing more, nothing less.

with a snap of his fingers, he clicks his door locked, and gets down to business.


End file.
